This is going to be very hard to write, so forgive me if it doesn't read as well as some posts. Just as before, I'm really not sure what I'm going to say, and this time I don't have the benefit of an historic church to sit in and reflect. Instead I have green fields. I have the familiar fire pit in my garden, where I can while away time gazing into the flames. And a lot of it feels very empty.
In short, I am back from Palestine. And honestly, it's leaving me feeling a little lost. A little fucked up, in fact. I smiled as the plane came down and I saw the green beauty of my homeland. I slept like a log, being back in the comfort of my own bed, in very familiar surroundings. And yet every time I close my eyes, I see Palestine.
Please do not misinterpret and read it as a bad thing that every moment is spent thinking about that land I was fortunate to call home for ten weeks. I smile when thinking of so many powerful memories I have, and I know that they will never leave me. But at the same time, I'm almost screaming inside my head, trying to think of how to explain to people what it is like to come home. What it is like to leave. It almost feels like a betrayal that I am no longer there alongside my friends, trying to share their struggle as an outsider with a heart open to all of them.
Let me try to explain what Palestine was like by comparing it to home. I've had multiple people ask me what it was like already. Disappointingly for them, I'm sure, I cannot actually answer. There are just too many words, and too many overwhelming emotions, which honestly make it very hard to deal with. All I can do is supply words like 'stunning' or 'inspiring' for now, before somewhat later in the conversation bringing out a story of what I have seen.
I am inevitably going to end up like one of the stereotypical 'Nam veterans, shouting at random people that 'you weren't there!'. But that's currently how I feel. I don't know how to explain to people that I breathed a sigh of relief hearing a gunshot the day after being home. Standing in a field, I heard a shot used to scare birds. And I could smile, because I knew that no-one was being shot, no-one was potentially losing their life at that very instant.
If I'm honest, I was looking forward to leaving Palestine a couple of days ago. I was feeling mentally numb, worn down by much of what I'd seen. But now I'm home, much as I suspected, it all feels very trivial. I hear conversations where people can discuss coffee and cake in the village hall, compared to the yet another story of friend of a friend suffering from military occupation.
But Palestine was not all heartbreak and emotional pressures, as the beginning of this post makes it sound. It was also light, laughter and the meeting of a great many new friends, who I am honoured by to be able to call a part of my life. And that makes it even harder that I am leaving beautiful and inspiring people. I have some of the best friends I could ask for in the UK, but it's not like the sheer emotion in the eyes of my Palestinian brothers and sisters.
And I will use those words, for I have never felt more connected or drawn in by people anywhere in the world. I might be a foreigner, but the welcome I received and the kindness shown has pulled me with open arms into Palestine's struggle, and because of this I will always be a friend of Palestine. I long to run back there, to stand alongside them. I am finding the UK hard to deal with, because it is all so simple here. I am relaxed, and yet feeling very tense right now.
All I can ask is your patience over the next few weeks, while I try to sort out my thoughts, and attempt to explain to all whom I meet again what I've seen. I will need some time to adjust from such a breathtaking experience, and I doubt I will ever settle back into life here again, following what I've seen and done.
Sorry for the shortness of this post. I do not know what else to write other than this: My dear friends in Palestine, I will be back. I miss you and your country already, and I am so lucky to be able to call you a part of my life. I love you all.
